"The house was dark, still, as though it were marooned in space by the ebb of all time. The insects had fallen to a low monotonous pitch, everywhere, nowhere, spent, as though the sound were the chemical agony of a world left stark and dying above the tide-edge of the fluid in which it lived and breathed. The moon stood overhead, but without light; the earth lay beneath, without darkness. He opened the door and felt his way into the room and to the light. The voice of the night—insects, whatever it was—had followed him into the house; he knew suddenly that it was the friction of the earth on its axis, approaching that moment when it must decide to turn on or to remain forever still."
— William Faulkner, Sanctuary
now it’s like playing connect-the-dots, only instead of lines yer using words words words unknown to fill in those fucking spaces and basically it’s like i’m just scribbling all over this shit who needs order.
BUT DAMNIT REALLY I CANNOT WRITE “IS NECESSARY” WITHOUT APOCALYPSE NOW-ING MYSELF
i think what this thesis needs is some planes
and some memos.
"Poetry’s poetry. It doesn’t have to be called a poem, you know."
WOW BUT I WANT TO PUNCH THIS PART OF EDITING IN THE FACE
"i will get up and work on my thesis."
"i will wake up late and then play guitar for maybe an hour and a half and then start working on thesis."
Ball and Chain
Janis Joplin - Cheap Thrills (796)